


Dog-Gone Days

by bantha fodder (banthafodder)



Category: Phryne Fisher - Kerry Greenwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-22
Updated: 2007-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banthafodder/pseuds/bantha%20fodder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne solves another mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dog-Gone Days

**Author's Note:**

> with thanks to Dee and SJ
> 
> Written for Elena

 

 

Opening her eyes, Phryne observed the bright stripes of sunlight beaming through the grand curtains which had been inadequately closed, and considered them to suggest an almost unbearable ambient temperature. Inspite of this, Phryne buried deeper into the warmth provided by her lover, Lin Chung. Her Oriental lover's skin was smooth and soft, and she stroked it, caught up by her memories of their often ferocious and satisfying love making.

"You must be careful," Lin advised. Phryne met his amused eyes with her own.

"Oh?" Phryne arched one elegant eyebrow, and Lin noted how attractive she looked just so, with the sheets pooling about her waist and the disbelief clear upon her face.

"You must be ready for the consequences, should you continue your current actions."

Phryne laughed. "What excellent news," she said, always ready for a challenge. Alas for Phryne, before she could provoke the desired consequences, there was a knock at the door.

"Excuse me, Miss Phryne." Dot waved her hand through the door into Phryne's rooms, but did not poke her head in. Dot, being somewhat concerned regarding the condition of her immortal soul, knew better than to risk herself by peering through the door. However Miss Phryne, Dot knew, had no similar concerns, and come the appropriate time would make her way through to wherever she jolly well pleased.

"A friend of Miss Ruth's has appeared," said Dot's hand, "and the girls have invited her to breakfast."

"How lovely," Phryne replied. "Please ask Mrs Butler if there might be some eggs." Dot pulled the door closed. "I suppose we ought to join them, though I do hope the girl is tolerable."

"They can wait," Lin said, his hand cupping Phryne's hip, and they engaged in those actions about which Dot was so concerned.

Having seen Lin Chung upon his way, Phryne joined the breakfast party in a fine blue robe made of silk.

Breakfast being a casual affair, she served herself an egg or two and a rather strong coffee, before seating herself and considering their breakfast guest. She was a plain girl, whoever she was, with half a dozen freckles and short brown hair and a well tailored if unpressed dress. Phryne had her concerns, but Ruth was generally a sensible girl, so Phryne took a sip of her coffee and elected to worry about it only if necessary.

Phryne instead pondered her daughters, and took note of their quiet squabbling.

"She would be much better," whispered Ruth.

"No need to bother her," Jane replied. "I am perfectly capable."

Phryne surmised from their guest's glazed look, and the lack of steam from Ruth's cup of tea, that the girls' argument had been taking place for quite some time. Rather than let them continue in circles until Ember came to lick at Ruth's plate, Phryne raised her voice. "You are very capable of many things, Jane, but what in particular are you capable of this morning?"

"Oh," said Ruth. "This is my friend Diane. Her Sally has gone missing."

"And who is Sally?" Phryne asked, mildly concerned at the idea of some missing younger sister.

"Her dog," Jane replied. "A silky terrier."

"Well," said Phryne, aware that her next words would settle the argument between her daughters, but perhaps make matters worse, "let us return to the scene of the crime. Jane, I should like to see you at work, if you will permit me." All three girls smilled at her, and Diane even stopped sniffling.

Phryne poured herself some more coffee. Having thus fortified herself, she called for Mr Butler, and had him bring around the Hispano-Suiza whilst she attired herself more suitably for visiting.

Attired in a rather fetching suit, Phryne and her daughters headed out, their friend Diane occasionally sniffling. They breezed through St Kilda at what Phryne felt was a perfectly respectable speed, though some others might perhaps have found it quite startling.

Directed by Diane, Phryne pulled into a driveway a mere fifteen minutes from their own, and all four disembarked from the Hispano- Suiza. In the parlour, Diane introduced her father, and Phryne noticed a distinct lack of female influence in the domestic help wandering through the house.

"Well, Jane," Phryne said, "off to work." Thus charged, Jane interrogated Diane's father, then wandered into the kitchen to question the cook and various errant garden staff seated there on their extended breaks.

"She wasn't a problem, was she?" Diane's father asked Phryne, a trifle too concerned about a daughter who had merely dropped in on friends for breakfast.

"Diane was fine," Phryne replied. "I never even knew she was there." She met his eyes, and he dropped his gaze first. Phryne chose to assume he was embarrassed, not hiding treacherous dog-napping secrets, but she kept an eye on him and listened out for Jane's return.

"She was here last night," Jane announced. "The cook fed her some scraps before pushing her outside. She kept trying to eat the bacon for this morning's breakfast."

"And is she used to being outside? Where would she go from there?" Phryne prompted Jane.

"She runs across the path and barks at passersby."

"But not in a bad way," Diane interrupted. "She's very friendly. She only barks because she likes to meet people."

Phryne gazed out the window. From her perch she watched the family cat walking across the path, and considered the facts. "I shall never see her again!" cried Diane. Her father patted her awkwardly on the head.

"We'll get you a new dog," her father said, clearly unused to comforting distraught young ladies.

"I don't want another dog!" Diane wailed. "I want Sally!"

"Fortunately," Phryne said, "I think that shall not be a problem. I suspect that Sally has merely been frolicking on the beach, as dogs are wont, and shall return home when she is done."

"But how-" Jane asked, always of an inquisitorial bent. Poor Jane's words were lost to the air, however, as the sound of enthusiastic barking floated through the doorway, and Diana leapt to her feet. "Sally!" she yelled, as she was bowled over by a small silky terrier, its tiny tail wagging furiously at the prospect of reuniting with its owner.

"Excellent," Phryne said aloud.

"Oh, I see," Jane said. "Her fur is wet, and she's treading sand everywhere."

"You will be an excellent doctor, Jane," Phryne said, "And I am sure you are a loss to our noble Police Department."

A happy ending, of sorts, and for once no terrible specimen of humanity to contend with.

Phryne lit up a gasper. 

 


End file.
